


I’ll Always Remember Us This Way.

by suckerloveisheavensent



Category: Placebo (UK Band)
Genre: Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Illness, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17295644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckerloveisheavensent/pseuds/suckerloveisheavensent
Summary: Based off the music from the film, “A Star Is Born”.





	I’ll Always Remember Us This Way.

Stefan knew before the doctors did what was wrong. 

He knew the moment that god awful cough came, a relentless, wretched thing that left Brian gasping for air. Brian had stopped smoking a decade prior, due the fact that it was affecting his health. He had gotten better after that but the long term effects of smoking everyday from the age of 14 to 58 began to emerge. 

Despite the fact that he knew, Stef was not prepared to hear that word, that ugly word. 

Cancer. 

A word so malevolent it shouldn’t have even been said in the same vicinity as Brian. Brian didn’t look shocked when he heard it, and he didn’t cry. When the doctor left him and Stef alone, and Stef’s ever present composure disintegrated, it was Brian who wiped away his tears, looking as assured as ever. “We both knew this was coming,” he whispered gently, holding Stef’s hands. He told Stef he didn’t want to attempt chemo; he had seen how it had ravaged friends of his and he didn’t want the same fate. He wanted to die peacefully. 

Peace did not come quickly. 

It took two long years for the cancer to wear him down. Brian swore, despite the pain, the medication, and the agony, he was still grateful for those two more years with Stef. Brian lacked the energy to walk, so Stef had wheeled him around, taking him outside because Brian loved nature almost as much as he loved Stef. 

He had had two more birthdays with Stef, each one spent at home, in bed, but still the presence of the younger man soothed Brian in his final years. The evening before he passed, Brian had a sudden burst of energy. Stef was in the other room, tackling the insurmountable hospital bills that had piled up on the dining table when he felt two familiar hands rest on his shoulders. He pulled off his reading glasses, looking up incredulously at his husband, who had been practically bedridden for the past year. “Baby what are you doing up?” He asked, immediately placing his hands on Brian’s hips in preparation to catch him if he fell. But he didn’t. Brian just smiled. 

“I want to dance with you,” he asked, voice clearer than it had been in ages. It had that old chime to it like it used to, when he was young and mischievous. “Are you sure?” Stef asked carefully, and Brian nodded. “I’m okay Stef.” The taller man stood, reluctantly letting go of Brian as he went over to the record player. He fumbled through the crates of records the two of them had collected over the years, finally deciding on an old favourite of theirs and smiling. He put the needle on, waiting for Brian’s reaction. 

When the familiar tune flooded the speakers, Brian smiled, eyes watery. He reached for Stef’s hand and Stef gladly took it. Brian put his feet on top of Stef’s like he used to when he was too drunk to dance without assistance. He had one arm wrapped around Stef’s waist and the other holding his hand, fingers intertwined. David Bowie’s voice began to push through the speakers, as haunting as ever. 

I, I will be king  
And you, you will be queen

Stefan began to move, a slow waltz that carried them both across the room. Brian looked so content, careful grey eyes beaming up at Stefan. Stef kissed him gently, held him a little bit closer as they stopped and just swayed to the music, hand in hand. 

As the final just for one day faded, Brian stepped off Stef’s feet, a little unsteady. Stef caught him just before he fell, Brian coughing violently against Stef’s chest as the younger man carried him back to their bedroom. He rubbed Brian’s back as his diseased lungs seized. His mouth was stained with blood and Stef’s heart wretched, for he knew their time together was running out. When Brian finally gained composure, Stef wiped the blood away with a wet cloth. He stood up again to finish the bills when Brian spoke up gently. “Please don't leave,” he whispered, his voice weak from the coughing. Stef smiled the best he could and sat on the bed with Brian. The older man laid his head in his lap and Stef stroked the streaks of grey in Brian’s hair as he slept. Stefan stayed up most of the night, trying to drink in the sight of Brian sleeping, the way he moved about, the way he rubbed his eyes. Stef knew Brian was going to die soon, so he recorded as many memories as he could on his phone, for when his mind failed him. 

The morning Brian gave his last breath, he was up early, wheezing more than usual. Stefan had placed the oxygen mask on him, trying to mask the tears in his eyes at the sound of his laboring breaths. At some point, Brian pulled the mask off and Stef reluctantly assisted, shutting off the tank. Tears slipped down Brian’s cheeks as the realization hit him. “I’m scared Stef,” he whispered, crying harder, his breathing worsening. Stef wiped the tears the best they could, a few of his own running from his eyes. “I’m afraid of dying without you, I don’t know what to do without you,” Brian cried, and Stef laid down beside him. He held him gently, feeling how hot his skin was as the illness slowly took him. “I don’t know how to live without you,” Stefan started, struggling to keep his voice from cracking, “but you’re going to be okay.”   
“You’re such a good person, so unbelievably kind, that wherever you’ll go, it’ll be somewhere where it doesn’t hurt you.” 

“I don’t want to go anywhere you won’t be,” Brian wept. Stef smiled softly. “Look at me baby. I’m a mess without you. I’ll see you soon.” 

Brian stopped crying, choking back hiccups. Stef pulled him to his chest, carding his thin fingers through his hair. “I love you,” Brian whimpered, “I love you more than anyone I’ve ever known.” Stef smiled. “And I love you more than I ever said.”  
They laid there, Brian’s breaths staggering as the sun rose fully into the sky, signifying the morning. Stef held him as his body, after a long battle, finally surrendered. It sounded like Brian was sighing as he gave his last breath, and Stef prayed it was a sigh of relief. In that solitary moment, Stefan felt hopelessly alone. Brian had died with his eyes half open, glazing over and lifeless. It was upon seeing that that Stef cried, screaming out with an ache that he had never experienced so strongly. He had felt something similar to this when his parents passed but this was his own makeshift family. Brian was his life. Over fifty years he had known him, and he was simply gone. Stefan cradled Brian’s body, not caring that the life inside the man he loved was gone, not caring that Brian’s bowels had relieved themselves when he had passed. Stef held Brian until the warmth finally left him, then, only then did he reach for the phone. 

It didn’t rain the day of the funeral. The forecast called for a nasty storm, but the sun was shining for once through the typical London overcast. Stef took it as a sign from Brian, who fucking hated the rain. There was a sea of people at the church, from fans who were sobbing and blasting Placebo at full volume, to friends of friends who wanted to offer their condolences. The same people who hugged Stef and told them how sorry they were, were the same people who advised him to place Brian in hospice, as if he hadn’t taken vows of “in sickness and in health”. Brian loathed the idea of anyone viewing his lifeless body, so he was cremated, placed on an altar in the church. Beside it was a photo of Brian in his early forties, smiling up at Stef as he played. It was one of Stef’s favourite photos of him, the love in Brian’s eyes so evident. 

Stef felt robotic, giving everyone the same lines as they offered sympathy he did not want. The speech he gave was truthful, but he still felt disconnect between the urn containing his husband’s ashes and the man he was speaking so highly of. Brian had stated in his will that he wanted Stef to “hold onto him until he could let go”, and listed a location where he wanted his ashes scattered later. Stefan left the church, hugging the urn close to his chest. He got in the car and the driver took him back to his house, which seemed far too big for just one person. 

Over the weeks that followed, Stef found it more and more difficult to do simple actions. It took him weeks to change the sheets, despite the fact that Brian had soiled them, because even the scent of his waste was a comfort for Stef. Even when he finally did change them, he could not bring himself to sleep in the bed, for the absence of Brian rolling into him, snoring on his chest was too much for him to bear. Instead of sleeping, Stefan cleaned, going through his old things and ridding himself of everything that did not relate to Brian. He had given away all their old guitars except for the ones Stef had gotten for Brian and vice versa. He went through boxes in the attic, finding old footage long since forgotten. He stayed up, watching Brian’s face light up on the projector. The sound of his laugh rang through the empty house, the sound that used to fill it. In the video Stef was recording Brian, for no other reason besides the fact that he thought he looked beautiful. Brian had tried to cover his face, free from makeup, but eventually he yielded, making a face into the camera and laughing. 

Most of the videos were just of them on tour, watching Brian chatter away about the place they were visiting, and spewing facts about the area. It comforted Stef to hear Brian’s voice, and on the occasions he slept, he left the videos running, the sound of Brian singing soothing him. 

It had been two months when he found the DVD. He hadn’t dared to go through Brian’s nightstand, but Stef wanted to clean the room more, so he opened it. There was mostly makeup in the drawer, never to be used again. But resting on top was a letter taped to a DVD that read “For Stef” in Brian’s messy handwriting. He opened the letter first and began to read. 

Dearest Stef,

If you are reading this, then I have traveled beyond the veil of sleep. I can only imagine what you’re going through right now, but try not to burden yourself with grief, for the pain of this disease will have ceased along with my death. I am writing this to you while I still have use of my hands, and I have included a video for you while I still have my voice.   
I hope you are sleeping, though I know you’re not, and I also know you’re not eating, for I was always the one to remind you. Watching you care for me these past few months has only strengthened my love for you, and know that I appreciate every bit of energy you put into helping me as I slowly break down. Please watch the DVD I have enclosed; I hope it conveys even an iota of the love I have for you. 

Eternally yours,  
B. xx

Stef wiped the tears from his eyes and carried the letter and DVD into the living room. He played the DVD on the projector, sitting on the couch and waiting for it to start. Brian’s blue eye was the first thing on the video, and Stef could hear him muttering as he fumbled with the camera. He backed away a bit, inspecting the height before deeming it acceptable. He was in his pajamas, the beanie Stef got him ages ago on his head and a thin blanket around his shoulders. Brian sat in front of a piano, looking at the camera. “Hi baby,” he said softly, and Stef could tell he was getting over a bout of pneumonia when this was recorded. “You’re at the store now, probably carrying a handful of soup and applesauce because you don’t believe in carts,” Brian added with a small chuckle. “Which gives me enough time to do this. I can feel myself getting weaker, so I don’t have much time left for this. I want to give you this last piece of me, while I still have all my faculties. What you choose to do with this, is up to you. You can share it with our friends and our fans, or you can keep this to yourself. But know this one’s for you.” Brian pulled his hands out from his sweater pockets, trying to find the right chords. “I wish I could show you this now so you could help me play; you were always the better pianist but I’ll do my best.”

The melody was simple, but the chords were strategic and meant to tug at the heartstrings. The first verse was about Stef, and how he was like a home to Brian. Brian’s voice was deeper due to the sickness, yet had lost none of the rich tone it held that Stefan admired. He anticipated the chorus, and when it arrived, the visual of Brian playing minimized and fell to the corner of the screen as a slideshow emerged. 

So when I'm all choked up and I can't find the wordsEvery time we say goodbye baby it hurtsWhen the sun goes downAnd the band won't playI'll always remember us this way.

Photos went by, some even Stef did not recognize. Pictures of their first tour, Brian lugging a bass drum up a ramp, grainy video of Brian holding onto Stef after a gig, a beer in hand. They were so young, Stef still going to school at that time in between performing. 

Lovers in the nightPoets tryin' to writeWe don't know how to rhyme but damn we tryBut all I really knowYou're where I wanna goThe part of me that's you will never die.

The projector showed Brian and Stef practicing, old polaroids of them writing the first record together. Brian had apparently found the photos Stef had taken of Brian, three boxes full that dwelled in the attic. Stef smiled fondly, watching Brian age all over again. The song was beautiful, the best Brian had ever written in Stef’s opinion. When the chorus came back, small audio clips started playing faintly with the music. Tears sprung in Stef’s eyes as the footage from their wedding appeared. Brian in white at their reception, smiling at the camera. “So Mr. Molko-Olsdal, how do you feel?” a younger version of Stef’s voice asked behind the camera. “That’s Mrs. Molko-Olsdal to you,” Brian retorted cheekily, giggling. His eyes softened as he looked away from the camera to look into Stef’s eyes. “This is the happiest day of my entire life.” The video cut to their first dance as a married couple. Seeing Brian swaying in his arms, a look of pure content on his face broke Stef’s resolve. Brian was so happy that night, peppering the younger man’s face with kisses and telling him how much he loved him. 

The last images that showed were from PLACEBO’s final tour, 9 years ago. As the outro played, a photo of Brian looking at Stef as Stef typed away on his laptop. Stef likely hadn’t even noticed the other man’s gaze, which made the last line that more haunting. 

When you look at me and the whole world fadesI'll always remember us this way. 

Brian on screen stopped playing, wiping his eyes. “This is what I choose to focus on, not how sick I am,” he started, laughing gently. “Of all the people in London that could have been at that train station that day, I am so happy it was you.” Brian cried a little bit longer, trying to compose himself. Stef cried along with him. “I love you sweetheart. Goodbye.” The screen went black and Stef sobbed, chest aching. He put the video on again, watching it over and over again until he slipped into a restless slumber. 

Stefan lasted a year without Brian. Six months in, he started to feel weaker, likely due to the fact that he was no longer taking care of himself. He already suspected he was dying, but unlike Brian, he had no one to take care of him. Stef didn’t want to waste away in a hospital. He wanted things on his own terms. So he rummaged through the medicine cabinet, finding Brian’s old sleeping pills. He put on an old jacket Brian always loved him in, and Stef could practically feel the ghost of Brian’s hands smoothing out the collar like he used to, standing on the tips of his feet to reach. Stef poured the contents of the bottle into his palm, more than enough to do the deed. He took them all, setting the glass of water down on the nightstand. He grabbed the picture frame from Brian’s nightstand. It was the most recent, taken just before Brian got sick. A mutual friend of theirs had taken it on their 27th wedding anniversary. They were holding hands, sitting in a booth together. They were looking at each other the same way they did when they were younger, when all they had was each other to hold onto. In the end, Brian really was all Stef had. 

Stef clutched the photo, laying down on the bed as the pills began to kick in. It happened swiftly, between one breath and the next. He let out a final sigh, and his hands relaxed their grip on the photo. 

 

“Baby, wake up.”

Stefan opened his eyes, scanning the face of his husband. He was younger again, how he looked in his early forties, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Stef sat up and Brian took his hand, getting him out of bed. “You did so well baby,” Brian said softly, walking Stef out their bedroom and through the house. Stef caught a glimpse of his reflection in the hallway mirror. He had regressed as well, the same age he was when Brian was this young. “Where are we?” Stef asked softly. Their house looked the same as it had been before, though everything was brighter. Brian looked back at him, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t know exactly. I just know it’s without pain and it’s beautiful and I’m so glad you’re here.” Stef cupped the side of Brian’s face gently, and his skin was warm to the touch. He had missed the feeling so much. 

They continued walking, out of the house. Everything was the same as it was on Earth, and Stefan soon realized where Brian was leading him. The park was beautiful, more so than it was in reality. The sky was a soft blue and the light caught on the morning dew the grass held. Brian led him to the gazebo, once old and worn down, now looked restored, better than before. The smaller man held his hands softly. “Think of our song. Really concentrate on it,” Brian whispered. Stef listened, hearing the music in his head until he heard it out loud. He jumped slightly and Brian giggled softly. “It takes some getting used to, but that’s how music works here.” Stef was still afraid he was dreaming, perhaps the pills hadn’t worked. 

“Is this real?” Stef started, voice cracking. “Are you real?” Brian got on his tiptoes, wiping away the fresh tears. “I’m real baby. We’re real. You were right. I didn’t have to wait long for you.” Stef held Brian’s hips, leaning down to kiss him. Heroes played in the gazebo as they swayed. Brian hugged Stef tightly, head resting against his chest. “I can’t believe I get to love you forever,” Stef said softly, still taking in the entire concept. Brian laughed gently. “They really need to rework that ‘til death do us part’ bit, because that clearly doesn’t apply here.” Stef laughed with him, petting his hair gently. He wasn’t sure how long they would be in this state together, be in limbo or the afterlife, but he didn’t care. They were together again, the way it had always been.


End file.
